


The Rematch

by geekyjez



Series: Isii Lavellan (Non-Canon AUs) [12]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Foreplay, Sexual Tension, Smut, Teasing, god dammit solas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-31 15:40:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3983593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekyjez/pseuds/geekyjez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A continuation to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/3457721">"The Card Game"</a>. Isii gets her rematch, but this time it's an intimate game for two - and they are playing for very different stakes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rematch

**Author's Note:**

> A prompt fill from tumblr. Using the rules for Wicked Grace that can be found in [this post.](http://lotusflwr.tumblr.com/post/5695401519/wickedgrace)

Isii grinned as she heard him knock on the door to her quarters, cheerfully telling him to come in. She began to shuffle the cards as he padded up the steps, pausing at the top of the stairs, his brow furrowing curiously. Her smile deepened as she gestured to the chair across from her. “Have a seat, Solas.”

He remained unmoved, watching her from the corner. “You said you wished to speak with me.”

“I know what I said.”

“You went to the trouble of having a table and chairs brought up to your room for the occasion?” There was a hint of a smug smile on his lips. “Are you truly so desperate to challenge me again?”

“I said I wanted a rematch.” She continued to flip the cards between her hands, her eyes not leaving his. “You kept putting me off, so I had to take matters into my own hands. _Sit_.” It was an order now, not an offer. He pursed his lips, barely hiding his amusement as he obeyed.

“I would have thought one time was enough for you to learn your lesson.”

“My lesson?” she repeated with a laugh. “And what lesson is that?”

“That your chances of besting me are slim, if not altogether non-existent.”

She giggled, shaking her head. “Creators, you have a huge ego.”

“I’m certain they would agree.” She dealt the cards. Instead of picking it up to check his hand, Solas slid is fingers over the pile she laid out for him, pushing the cards away. “I have no interest in taking your money, vhenan,” he said, his tone soft and sincere.

“Who said we had to play for coin?” she cooed, making only a small attempt to hide her smile behind the cards fanned between her fingers. His eyes narrowed as her brow arched suggestively. “So? Are you going to play with me or not?”

Solas studied her for a moment before picking up his cards.

***

He was infuriatingly good.

Admittedly, she was surprised at how easily he agreed to the terms of the game – each losing hand cost an article of clothing. She’d given herself a clear advantage in that regard, fully dressed in the attire she usually reserved for formal appearances as the Inquisitor. It provided her with a variety of layers to choose from. Even so, she now sat in her smalls and breastband, trying not to think about the boots, stockings, breeches, belt, sash, chemise, tunic, and jacket he’d already stripped off of her. All she’d managed to get so far were his leg wrappings, belt and tunic. He still remained frustratingly covered, still wearing the thin green leathers he wore beneath his rough-hewn shirt. She stared at her cards, running her tongue between her teeth.

“You’re stalling, vhenan. The cards are not going to change the longer you look at them.”

“Hush.”

“Make your choice.” He was leaning back in his seat, his chair half-turned from the table, his smile looking far too self-satisfied.

She glanced over to the discard pile. He’d sacrificed the Angel of Truth. A high card, not easily parted with unless he had a solid hand building in another suit. She had three Songs, a Dagger, and two Knights. She pursed her lips, discarding the Wolfhead Dagger.

Solas took the silent cue, reaching forward to draw. “Angel of Death,” he announced, placing card on the table. “Game over.”

She straightened in her seat, taking a deep breath before laying her hand out. “Twilight Knight, Eclipse Knight, Song of Mercy, Song of Love, Song of Parting.”

He grinned, his brow arching. “A full house. Admirable.”

“And you?”

His smile widened as he revealed his cards. “Serpent of Avarice, Serpent of Jealousy, Serpent of Lust, Serpent of Deceit, Serpent of Pride.”

“Etunash.”

He chuckled at her cursing. “I’m sensing some frustration, Inquisitor. Is the game no longer to your liking?”

“Gavas em.”

“We do not have to continue playing.”

She smirked, her eyes narrowing. “What, and deny you your winnings?” He watched her, a sudden stillness to how he sat as she teased her fingers along the fastening to her breastband. It was a small reaction, barely shown behind an otherwise disinterested expression, but she could see how his eyes followed her hand as she loosened the binding, letting it drop to the floor. The room was cold, a chill running over her breasts as they met the open air. Solas studied her a moment, his expression revealing little. He looked much more like a man glancing over an aesthetically-pleasing painting than a lover looking at the subject of his lust. Even so, she knew his tells. She spotted how his eyes lingered on her as they played the next round, how he studied her body, only returning his gaze to his cards when he noticed her watching him. She smiled, leaning back in her seat, shamelessly displaying herself as she looked over her cards.

At least she had his attention.

It appeared to work in her favor. Either by chance or his distraction, the next time the Angel of Death was drawn she had the winning hand. She grinned at him, leaning forward against the table, her chin resting against her palm. “So, what will it be?”

He pursed his lips, eyes narrowing as he slipped the leather cording from around his neck, placing the jawbone on the table. She shook her head. “That doesn’t count.”

“I don’t see why not,” he said calmly. Isii lifted herself out of her seat, slowly pacing over to him. He watched her, his expression unmoving as she stood before him, grasping the arms of his chair, leaning in close.

“Shirt or breeches,” she murmured, challenging him. “Pick one, or I will.”

He stared up at her for a moment, their faces mere inches from one another. She could feel his breath against her cheeks as his eyes slowly trailed down the length of her body, subtly wetting his lips. She grinned as he shifted slightly in his seat, beginning to pull at the hem of his undershirt. She stopped him with a touch, slipping her hands beneath it, pressing her palms to heated skin. She heard his breaths hitch, felt his muscles tense under her fingers as she slowly trailed them along his sides, pushing his shirt up. She saw his feigned disinterest shift and melt away, his eyelids lowering, lips parting as she leaned in closer. She kissed him – a slow, lingering kiss, her teeth lightly scraping his lip as a soft moan rumbled from his throat. She crawled forward, straddling his lap as she raked her nails against his chest, letting him taste her as his tongue sank into her mouth. They parted only long enough for her to pull the shirt over his head, pleasured laughter on her lips as he drew her to him once more, his fingers lacing themselves into her hair.

His other hand was far bolder, teasing his fingertips along her breast, her moans captured by his kiss. His touch was light, ghosting over her skin, leaving her shuddering by the time his thumb slowly circled her nipple. She gasped, breaking away from his lips and he took the opportunity to move to her throat. His arm slipped around her, pulling her closer as his other hand continued to stroke her, palming her breast before teasing her nipple between his fingers once more. She writhed against his lap, rocking against him, letting out a satisfied groan as she felt the hard press of his arousal between her legs. Even clothed, it felt good to grind herself against him. He took in a sharp breath, his teeth pressing to her neck, the bite sending a hard throbbing pulse through her core. It wasn’t enough to say that she wanted him. She needed him. She couldn’t bear the thought of not having him inside her.

He lowered his mouth to her chest, his tongue flicking and circling her other nipple before drawing it between his lips. She moaned his name like praise, her head falling back, fingers raking against his scalp. She gripped the nape of his neck, pulled his head back to slate her mouth over his once more before slipping down off of his lap. He looked at her, puzzled for a moment as she grinned, parting his knees. She worked her way down his body slowly, nipping and kissing along his chest and stomach, easing herself down until she knelt before him. He watched her intently as she moved, his hands tightening against the arms of the chair. She placed her hands on his knees, easing them up his thighs as he let out a slow breath. She could feel him twitch under her touch, see him straining against the front of his breeches. She was certain his cock was aching for her. More than anything else in that moment, she wanted to pleasure him. She wanted to slide her tongue along his shaft, to hear him moan as she took him into her mouth. She wanted to break down his controlled reserve, to make him as senseless with lust as he made her. She wanted to suck him almost to the point of bliss before straddling him again, burying him inside her, finishing him right where he sat. She reached for the lacings to his breeches, surprised when he caught her wrists. When she looked up, there was something daring and amused in his expression.

“That’s not how the game is played,” he murmured.

She frowned, confused. “What?”

He grinned, his brow lifting. “You want those off of me, you will have to earn it.”

Her eyes widened, lips parted in surprise. “You’ve _got_ to be kidding me.”

“Those are the rules, are they not?”

The sound that escaped her could only be described as a snarl as she pushed herself back up into his lap. She gripped his jaw with both hands, angling his head back to meet hers as she glared down at him. “You infuriating tease!”

“You’re the one who wanted to play,” he said calmly.

Her eyes narrowed, her hand slipping between them, palming his erection as he took a sharp breath. “You’re bluffing,” she said, stroking him through his clothing. “You’re more than eager-”

“I can be incredibly patient when I need to be,” he said, drawing her hand away. “The question is, can you beat me?”

She was practically growling as she pushed herself off of him, turning to scoop up the cards left on the table. “Fine,” she grumbled.

“Perhaps you would prefer it if we quit for the evening?”

“No,” she snapped. “You’re not going anywhere.” She gathered the cards into a stack, setting it down in front of him. “Shuffle.”

He picked up the deck, delicately rearranging the cards as she slumped back into her seat, her lips pursed. He met her irritation with a smile.

“You’re enjoying this,” she said.

“Is entertainment not the point of a game?”

“You know what I mean.” He chuckled. “You’re absolutely evil,” she said, shaking her head.

“Not the first time you’ve thought that about me, I’m sure,” he muttered as he dealt their hands.

***

Solas patiently gathered his things as she tossed her cards on the table, beginning to wind his leg wrappings into place. “Don’t tell me you’re just going to get dressed and leave,” she said.

“The game is over,” he said calmly, securing the second leg covering. “It is far too late for us to start another.”

“Don’t you want your prize?” she said, smirking as she leaned back in her chair, teasing her smalls lower on her hips. “Technically I should be taking these off after that last round. Do you want to do the honors?”

He studied her for a moment before turning his attention back to his clothes, slipping his undershirt and tunic back on. “Another time, perhaps.”

She groaned, letting her head fall back against the edge of her chair. “You are impossible,” she said with a laugh. He fastened his belt, slipping the jawbone necklace over his head as she stood. She stepped closer to him, gripping his tunic as she kissed him. He returned the gesture, his arm around her waist, his hand settling along the curve of her ass.

“Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay?”

He smiled, brushing hair back from her face. “Goodnight, vhenan,” he said firmly, kissing her again. “I will find you in the Fade.”

She sighed, grinning as she pressed her face into the crook of his neck, nipping him lightly. “You’d better.”

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:  
> Etunash – shit  
> Gavas em – bite me
> 
> Even though [The Card Game]() is a part of Isii's canon, sadly this one can't be - considering how I wrote their first time together in [Isala Arla.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3178193/chapters/6904148) Oh well.


End file.
